


I'm No Hero

by freakforfanfic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Arguments, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Keith is a smart ass, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Superhero Lance (Voltron), Villain Keith (Voltron), Walk Of Shame, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakforfanfic/pseuds/freakforfanfic
Summary: When Keith's arch nemesis Lance shows up on his doorstep beaten and drugged, it sparks a fever in Keith that will send them both on an adventure that neither expected. But on the quest to find the culprit, both have to confront feelings for one another that will change the course of their lives forever.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	1. Unexpected Guest

The incessant knocking at the door was unexpected to say the least, as he indignantly flung his robe strings around his waist and hurriedly padded down the stairs. 

“For being so rudely interrupted at this ungodly hour, I must say I am going much faster than expected, so just give me a minute!” he shouted, flinging open the door. He prepared himself with an arsenal of every slur known to man, when he was met with an armful of the last person he expected, as he collapsed. 

“I didn’t.. Know where else.. To go..” he could hear him mumble against his shoulder. Lance. With a heavy sigh, he felt his tension soften, and dragged the man inside and laid him in the nearest armchair. He watched the other man fight unconsciousness as he assessed the damage. He turned Lance’s head from side to side, noticing only superficial scrapes and bruises. He prodded along his extremities, not sensing any breaks. His clothes were ripped at the shoulders, and blood dried against his face, chest, and arms. His jeans were caked in dirt and more blood. 

“You should really consider a new profession supe,” he murmured to himself. He turned on the flashlight on his phone and peered into his eyes, which were cloudy and glazed over. He breathed in sharply. 

“Did they drug you?” Naturally, there came no response, but he felt this deep sense of anger pool in his stomach as he continued to look over the other man. Nothing seemed too serious, physically. Lord only knows the storm that must be brewing in his head. 

But it will be nothing like the storm that he will unleash on the person responsible. The only man allowed to do this kind of damage to  _ his _ hero, is himself. 

With a sigh, he lifted the man bridal style and dropped him into the nearest guest room. He made to exit the room but something internal pulled at him, causing him to glance back at the now unconscious man. Laying on the comforter, Lance looked softer, more vulnerable than Keith had ever seen him before. Considering that they were typically trying to kill each other, it was no surprise that he had never seen him like this before. 

He sighed and went to the adjoining bathroom to wet a cloth, walking over to rinse some of the blood and dirt off his face. He also tucked his legs under the covers and placed his head more comfortably on the pillows. Then he actually exited the room. 

He tossed the soiled cloth in the nearest hamper and scoffed _. Good lord, when had he become so soft?  _

\-----

He was perusing through the newspaper when Lance walked in the kitchen that next morning. Without looking up from his cup of coffee, he said, 

“How was your night sleeping beauty?” 

“I’ve been beaten, drugged, and I woke up in your bed. How do you think it was?” He pulled out a chair at the other end of the table. 

“You woke up in a guest bed, actually. Trust me, had you woken up in my bed, you wouldn’t be having any complaints,” he said with a wink, relishing in the warm pink that dusted his counterpart’s cheeks. “However, I’m going to interpret your terrible manners as a thank you for saving your sorry ass last night. Is there anything you can remember?” 

Lance ran his fingers through his hair. “The whole thing is still pretty fuzzy. I remember walking home, I can’t think of where I was coming from, and after that… blank.” 

“What about during the day? Is there anyone that you can think of that acted out of the ordinary or maybe someone you had a disagreement with?” 

“I honestly don’t remember much of what happened during the day. Whatever they must have drugged me with had to have been pretty strong.” 

“Is there anyone that you can think of that would have done this to you? And do you remember anything about what they did, or what they wanted?” 

“Typically, you’d be at the top of my suspect list. But considering that you’re here, and I have no memory of what happened, it looks like I’ll have to create a whole new list.” 

“Which is something I’m sure will just overload that little brain of yours, but seriously, we need to figure out what happened to you and who was behind it.” He glanced up from his paper. Compared to how he appeared last night, he seemed to have improved. His clothes were still dirty and in tatters, and he walked with a slight limp, but his eyes were brighter and his skin had regained its usual color. 

“Why do you care so much? Want to thank the guy?” 

That seemed to surprise Keith. Cool indifference quickly took over his features as he calmly folded his paper and considered his response. “I find that a fight of any kind is only fun when your opponent is of the right mind to fight back. Despite being described as immoral, I do have some semblance of values. Plus, I’ve never been too fond of sharing my playthings.” 

Lance rolled his eyes. _ As if he would ever describe himself as one of Keith’s toys.  _

“Well it’s not something you’re going to have to worry about too much longer. I’m going to get in contact with my friends at the police force and begin an investigation.” 

The villain scoffed. “That will take ages. All that red tape, and rules and what not.” 

“You mean the law?”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. It’s so much easier to just forget about it,” he suggested with a wiggle of his brow. 

“Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, that’s not exactly the way I do things.” 

“Well considering I’m the one in my satin pajamas, drinking coffee, and you’re the one standing barefoot, stinking, in shreds, I would say the way you’ve been doing things is questionable. Why don’t you just admit you need my help, and we can get started?” 

“Look, I appreciate what you did for me last night, but that was an emergency situation. A one time thing, and not something that is ever going to happen again. Believe it or not, I can take care of myself. So if I could just bother you for a shower, and maybe a change of clothes, I’ll be out of your hair and we can go back to hating each other.” 

The villain sighed and lowered his paper. “Well at least you’ll be dressed decently for once.” 

The hero stood and offered the other man his outstretched hand. “But in all seriousness, thank you for what you did for me. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to turn that wouldn’t compromise my identity. So, thank you.” 

The villain grasped his hand, shrugging. “I suppose I could have let you die, but then I would have become dangerously bored, which isn’t good for anyone.” 

With a roll of his eyes, the hero made his way back to the guest bedroom. Keith could hear the shower starting.

He padded leisurely to his own room and started ruffling through his drawers searching for something for the hero to change into. Keith tried to ignore the warmth in his stomach at the thought of Lance wearing a pair of his underwear. He picked a pair of tight, dark boxer briefs just to really seal the deal. Satisfied, he returned to the guest bedroom, setting the clothes on the bed. 

Wait. Were there towels in that bathroom? It’s not like Keith ever had guests, so he wouldn’t have thought to stock any. He may be evil, but never let it be said that he wasn’t a good host. 

He fetched some towels from his own bathroom upstairs, and slipped back inside the guest bedroom. Meaning only to slip the towels on the sink unnoticed, he was stopped in his tracks when he actually noticed Lance in the shower. 

Thank god he had decided on the glass panels rather than an actual curtain. 

I mean, his suit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but damn. He felt sheer jealousy toward the rivulets of water that covered and caressed his sculpted skin. His long fingers massaged the soap into his long locks which dripped down his neck, flowing like a river down his broad back and long, muscular legs. It wasn't his intention to stare, he was a high class super villain for heaven’s sake, not some teenage peeping tom. 

The creak of the faucet brought him back to reality as the stream of water ceased, and Lance moved to exit the shower. Quick as night and just as silent, Keith darted from the bathroom, out the bedroom door, and resumed his seat at the kitchen table, doing his best to still his fast beating heart. 

  
  



	2. Walk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uneasy alliance is formed between our favorite boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short, I'll make sure to make it up to you next week!

Lance emerged a short time later, his hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. It was a sight just to see Lance out of uniform, much less wearing Keith’s clothes. The garments were a touch too small, making the dark jeans hug his frame tightly and the black t shirt gently graze the top of the jeans, revealing a strip of Lance’s tanned stomach. The only thing that seemed to fit properly were the tennis shoes that Keith had drug from the back of his closet. 

“I’ll have these sent back to you,” Lance offered, gesturing to himself with one hand, while rubbing the back of his neck with the other. 

“Think nothing of it,” Keith waved his hand dismissively. “Think of it as a little parting gift.” Looking at the scene from an outside point of view, no one could guess that these two had spent countless years trying to eliminate each other from the face of the planet. Rather, an awkward silence clung in the air, similar to the silence that accompanies the morning after a one night stand, or after a heated argument with your mother. With a small smile, Lance headed towards the door. 

“I meant what I said, you know.” stopping Lance in his tracks. “I’m going to help you find out who did this to you.”  _ Whether you want me to or not _ , was left unsaid. His tone held a sense of finality. Turning back to face him, any sign of their previous positive encounter gone from Lance’s expression, he said, 

“I meant what I said too. I don’t need your help.” He resumed his stride towards the door. 

_ Alrighty then, looks like we’re going to have to do this the hard way.  _

“Are you really going to waltz into the police department announcing to the whole force that one of the strongest people on earth was not only drugged, but defeated? And by someone that could still be out there?” Kieth clicked his tongue pitifully and rose to his feet. “I hate to see what that would do to your reputation. I mean, what kind of hero are you? If you couldn’t defeat them, what mere mortal could?” 

His reach for the door paused. Without turning around, he replied, 

“As someone who constantly does whatever he wants, I’m sure this is hard for you to understand. There’s a certain way that things should be done, a hierarchy that needs to be followed. When something illegal happens, you go to the police and they help you. I, unlike some people, don’t view myself as above that system.” 

Keith said his name like an exasperated groan, “ _ Lance _ . The way you see things is so… binary. And ancient, if I do say so myself. Things aren’t so black and white, and they never have been. You should really open yourself up to the various shades of grey. I’ve heard there’s fifty of them.” 

“What, and become like  _ you _ ?” he spat the last word, as though trying to rid a bad taste from his mouth. 

“At least I’m not like  _ them _ ,” he shouted, his temper flaring, “I don’t understand your constant need to pretend that you are not leagues above every pathetic creature that inhabits this stupid planet! Whoever did this was crafty. Not only were they able to concoct a serum that could sedate you, but they were also able to hurt you! The only person that is going to be able to help you figure this out is someone like you - “

“I’m nothing like you!”

“Just admit you need me!”

Each shout had brought them steps closer to each other, until they were now nose to nose with one another, Lance’s back against the door, both men panting heavily.

“I’m not like you,” he repeated, barely above a breath. 

“I’m not saying you have to be. But I have a feeling that the intellect required for this little mystery is going to need to be larger than that that can be provided from the mystery gang that is our dutiful police force. And I can provide that. Along with any other gear or technology that I feel this is going to need.” Keith retreated, allowing Lance his space. 

He could see the conflict in his eyes. He could see his thoughts torn between what he felt was the right thing to do, and the undeniable truth that Keith was telling him.

“As well as my discretion,” he added, interrupting Lance’s thoughts. “Work with me, and no one has to know about last night.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Oh I never said you could. But do you really think I want people knowing I’m working with you? I do have a reputation to uphold.  _ And those sheets are going to cost a fortune to clean _ ,” he mumbled under his breath. “And like I said,” Keith continued breathily, slowly eliminating the space he had created between them while gently lifting his chin, “I don’t like to share my playthings.” 

Lance blinked and Keith was walking away from him, shouting indifferently, “Be expecting my call.” 

Lance finally opened the door, taking a much needed deep breath. He started down the street, tugging his shirt down furiously and trying to ignore the looks he was receiving from curious passersby. Once he reached his apartment, he felt as if he could crawl out of his skin. 

_ First things first, I have seriously got to get out of these clothes.  _

He turned his key in the lock and opened the door to his apartment, welcomed by the aroma of whatever his roommate Hunk was cooking for an early lunch. 

“Another late night I presume?” Hunk asked without turning around from his place at the stove. “I started to get a little worried when you didn’t come home last night and you didn’t call -” His sentence was cut short as he turned around and saw Lance standing in the doorway. Understanding dawned his features as he turned back to the stove. 

_ “What?”  _

“Oh nothing,” Hunk singsonged. 

“Oh, it’s clearly something,” Lance countered, hands glued indignantly on his hips. 

Hunk turned back around, giving him another once over and placed a cup of coffee on the island between them as a peace offering. “Must have been one hell of a walk of shame.” 

Lance sputtered around his coffee, spewing caffeinated droplets all over the counter and down the front of his borrowed shirt. He opened his mouth to retort, but Hunk just slid a food covered plate in front of him and said fondly, 

“Just eat your sandwich.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you're wondering, why do they hate each other so much? Could there possibly be some origin stories in the near future? 
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! Leave a kudos or comment telling me your fav part so far or what you think will happen!


	3. Have you tried turning it off and then back on?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While investigating who may be behind the attack on Lance, both men are greeted with an unexpected surprise.

Three days. Three days. That’s how long it took Keith to call. Not like Lance was counting or anything. The second he saw the unknown caller ID flash across his phone, he answered immediately, knowing it had to be Keith.

“You know, a situation like this is typically handled with a sense of urgency,” Lance started in lieu of a hello.

“Aw supe, have you missed me that much?”

He gave an unseen eye roll. “At least tell me you found something.”

“Found something? No, I haven’t found anything, but that’s probably because I haven't been looking for anything. Rather, I need something from you.”

The muscles in Lance’s jaw tightened as he gritted out his response, “And that would be?”

“Blood. Your blood specifically would be the most helpful.”

“No! -” he stood up and paced manically around the room, “No way. There's no way I’m giving you a sample of my blood just so you can keep it and do weird experiments on it to use to fight me down the road.”

“Calm down, happy meal, I’m not going to be the one handling it. I’m giving that little privilege to Pidgeon.” Lance could hear muffled shouting in the background.

“MY NAME IS NOT PID -”

“Pidgeon is the best scientist in the game. If there’s any remnants of the drug in your system, or any adverse side effects, Pidgeon will be able to find it.”

 _Adverse side effects?_ Lance hadn’t really thought about that. What if this drug affects his powers? What if it’s poisonous? He reached out and gripped a glass of water that was sitting in front of him. The glass started to crack slowly as trickles of ice slowly grew up the sides. The water inside started to freeze, eventually becoming a cold chunk in the glass. Lance let go of the glass, flexing his fingers. Slow, but not completely effected.

Ignoring his silence, Keith continued,

“That being said, I need you to come back by to give a few samples. When you get here, you can tell me about where you were attacked and I can see what I can do in way of security footage. Let’s say 7? Don’t be late.” With that, the line ended. Lance gave his phone an annoyed stare.

_This is going to be a lot harder than I thought._

\------

Lance knocked on Keith’s door at ten minutes after seven. He definitely could have abided by Keith’s time frame, but he was feeling a little extra snooty. He heard shuffling from behind the door.

“This better not take that long - and you’re not Keith.” This not Keith was much shorter and much less… groomed. Auburn locks pointed in every direction and dark circles accompanied their smudged glasses.

“Well thank goodness for that because he would probably screw this up. Let’s go.”

_This must be the scientist Keith was talking about._

“So you must be Pidgeo-” the scientist’s glasses shined with the glare she sent his way, completely stopping him in finishing his sentence.

“Call me Pidge.” It was not a friendly request. That ended all notion of quaint conversation as Pidge led Lance past the kitchen and towards a door underneath the staircase that he hadn’t noticed when he was first here.

_Unsurprising, considering I was literally out of my mind. Still might be honestly._

To any ordinary bystander, it just appeared to be a closet door until Pidge punched in several unidentifiable numbers into her phone, causing the door to open and reveal a stainless steel elevator. They both entered and Lance noticed there was only one button. Pidge pushed the button and Lance could feel the elevator shift, sending them downwards.

The doors slid open to reveal.. A lab? To be honest, Lance’s shoulders slumped. He felt a little let down.

He looked down at Pidge, “What, no dungeon? I expected much more of Keith’s secret lair.” That earned him a small smile. The far right wall was lined with surveillance computers, each depicting a different part of the city. Computers and numerous keyboards sat below them. Scattered around the room were various islands of scientific supplies and gadgets. Vials of various concoctions bubbled on one island, while various projects beeped and buzzed on the other islands.

“You’re late,” Keith remarked, not looking up from one of the computers.

“And you’re not the boss of me.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Pidge interjected, “Lance I need you to go sit down in one of those chairs while I go get the supplies I need.” Lance plopped down in one of the chairs and rolled it over to where Keith was still typing away.

“So this is where the magic happens huh?”

“Depends on what magic you’re referring to supe,” Keith retorted with a smirk. Lance was saved from having to respond by Pidge’s return. She opened a sterilized package containing a syringe and lined up several vials with different colored caps on the nearest surface.

“I’m just going to draw a couple vials of blood to study. I’ll be looking for cellular abnormalities or remnants of any foreign contaminants.”

“And I’ll pretend to understand anything you just said.”

“Have you noticed any negative effects on your powers?”

“Nothing major. They’re a little slower, but other than that they seem to get the job done.” Pidge nodded pensively.

“What about your strength?”

“I haven’t tested that yet.” Pidge continued to nod.

“You’ll want to do that as soon as possible. Today preferably.” She lined up the needle with the crook of Lance’s arm, stopping when she noticed his scrunched expression. “What?”

“Is this going to hurt?” Keith’s typing stuttered.

“Dude, I literally threw you into a _building_ a couple weeks ago, and you’re asking if that little needle is going to hurt?!”

“I don’t like needles okay?!” Lance shouted defensively. “You I can handle, but needles just.. They freak me out!”

“All done,” Pidge interrupted, placing the vials in the pocket of her lab coat and walking away.

“Now that _that_ terrifying ordeal is over, let’s actually get some work done.” Lance looked at the various screens. “Tell me exactly where you were attacked.”

“I thought that the longer I waited, the more I would remember, but I can’t remember anything other than the fact that I was walking home from somewhere.”

“Okay, then let’s just go back to that date and peek at some of the camera footage that would be en route to your house.” A couple clicks later and the screens were reeling, rewinding footage. Buses ran backward, people retreated from store entrances, and cars drove in reverse down every street.

“Wait stop,” Lance interrupted, pointing to a corner screen, “I think that’s me.” Pausing the footage, both men leaned closer to the small screen. They watched as Lance walked down the sidewalk, carrying bags of groceries in both arms. He passed an alleyway when a flash of white flitted in his direction. The screen went fuzzy for a moment, before clearing, showing nothing but plastic bags on the sidewalk, their contents spilling out into the road.

“Well that was informative,” Keith muttered, clicking indignantly. “I wonder if there’s anything nearby that could tell us more..” He made to type something on his keyboard when all the screens simultaneously cut out. “What the - “

A high pitched screech erupted from the sound system causing both men to clutch their ears.

“Keith, MAKE IT STOP!”

“I’M TRYING!” With one hand clutching his head, he rapidly smashed at keys and buttons, desperately trying to stop the siren.

The screeching stopped. Keith and Lance uncovered their ears, chests heaving. Then, a low robotic voice started to speak,

“Stop looking. Stop searching. You will not find me until I want you to find me. Ignore me, and you’ll find out just how far my web reaches.” The screens cleared, each individually coming to life and showing a different scene.

One showed Hunk, sitting on the couch watching something on the television while periodically dipping into a bowl of pretzels. The next showed a small kitchen, with an older woman laying out plates of steaming food, with laughing young women waiting at the table. Small children dashed under their feet. The last was of two men, not much older than them sharing a bench in the park. One was reading the newspaper contently while the other leaned over to kiss his cheek. The images cut out and the voice returned.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Both men sat in shocked silence before suddenly shouting at the same time.

“How the hell did he get in my system?”

“That was my mom! My family! Who the hell even is this guy?!”

“You guys are missing the bigger picture,” Pidge said quietly from behind them. They both turned in surprise, not knowing she had returned. Her expression was stoic as she said the one thing that they had not only forgotten, but now completely rocked them to the core.

“He knows who you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the delay, but I definitely have not forgotten about you guys or this fic! 
> 
> COVID-19 has seriously jacked my schedule, but it's given me a bit more time to write. I'll try to adhere to the weekly schedule as best I can, but for now I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! Stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating tags as needed, and will hopefully try to update every Sunday. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
